Something Done Right
by BunBun Fett
Summary: "You just better keep your nose clean, Mandie. I'll be watching you." - CARTH / TARIS / A series of loosely linked ficlets - NOT a walkthrough! / LSF RevanxCanderousxCarth
1. TARIS Briah

From the moment I met him, it was hard not to turn and sneak a second look when he sauntered by. After all, our dubious ally looked like he'd been chiseled out of an Anobian quarry wall. And he walked like a man who owned the galaxy - or _had_, at least, at one point (if only in his own mind).

Canderous Ordo _oozed _danger. Maybe that's why I found my eyes fixated on him from our first encounter in Taris' Lower City. He walked with a swagger that was certain to catch any female's eye.

It was a swagger that said he _knew_ he caught attention from the fairer sex. It was a swagger that said he _didn't care_.

I was quiet, mostly, as he guided us through the streets and walkways of Taris, toward Davik's private estate. Any question I asked was met with a one or two-word answer at best; our guide wasn't one for idle chatter. Carth didn't say anything, either - I could practically _feel_his disapproval pressing against my back as he finished out our party in the rear. It didn't take a genius to know that this wasn't going to end well - if Ordo held up his end of the bargain, he was probably going to travel with us for a while.

Which meant, at some point, I would probably have to peel him and Carth apart before they ripped each other limb from limb.

Secretly, my bets were on Ordo. Not that I didn't respect Carth's abilities as a fighter - we'd been through the Nine Corellian Hells and back again since the moment we met. But...

I eyed the size of Ordo's biceps as we rounded a corner. I hadn't yet had the pleasure of seeing _any _part of Carth's anatomy bared to view - much less his arms - but I was willing to bet Ordo had a good fifty or more pounds of muscle on him. Carth might have had speed on his side, but Ordo had brute strength. I decided I really didn't want to see what might happen if the two got in their heads to be all macho and _male_.

I stifled a small sigh. A part of me began to wish I'd asked Bastila to come along. Or even young Mission. Heck, even the Wookie would have been a better traveling companion (and more than enough of a match against the Mandalorian merc). But, no...I'd asked _Carth_ to tag along. It was out of sheer habit, at this point. We'd been through a lot together - it seemed like an eternity had passed since that fateful meeting on the _Endar Spire_. We'd faced Black Vukars, Sith, rakghuls, and a host of shady characters since we'd first step foot on Taris. Not to mention, Carth had been the one to pull me out of my escape pod's wreckage and to find temporary safety for me to recover.

He'd watched over me from the very beginning. And I had a feeling he always would - whether I asked him to or not.

When faced with the first real choice to leave him behind or take him with me, I hadn't really hesitated. Carth seemed like the obvious choice. Disapproving or not, he felt comfortable to be around - like a favorite pair of clothes or a well-forged viroblade.

He'd called me "beautiful", too. It was hard to leave behind a man who said that - even if it was just in passing flirt.

I considered the broad back that swaggered in front of me. Even though we had only really just met, I couldn't imagine the Mandalorian being so frivolous with his words. My first impression of him would probably always last, I mused - tall, grim, tough, and deadly.

Carth made a soft noise in the back of his throat and I glanced over my shoulder to toss him a smile. It was forced, but it seemed to bolster his spirits all the same. He brushed back a few stray strands of his dark brown hair and met my eyes briefly with a lop-sided grin of his own. But, then his eyes shifted past me, toward Ordo's back; only after a few pointed seconds of watching our guide, did Carth meet my eyes again.

"Trouble", his eyes said. I could only nod in silent understanding and then shrug. I broke eye contact and focused on turning the corner in front of us. There really wasn't anything we could do about the situation at this point. We had already stormed the Sith military base - no doubt, they were combing the streets of Taris for us, even at this very moment.

And, we needed a way off of this thrice-damned planet. So far, Ordo had been the only one to offer a solution. I - like the rest of of my companions - had balked at how much he had asked of us. Even I couldn't blame Carth for wanting to know why the Mandalorian couldn't take care of business on his own. But, Ordo's reasoning had been sound - logical and rational, as one would expect of a man bred for war. And even when I had wavered on the wisdom of our choices, Bastila had assured me that she had felt no deceit in our guide.

His desire to leave Taris was, at least, as genuine as ours. Though, I had to wonder about his ulterior motives.

What did he hope to find, in the galaxy beyond us? And, more importantly, who _was_ he? 'Canderous Ordo, bounty hunter' certainly had a bit of a ring to it, but it didn't tell me a thing about him, about his past, about his intentions, about his _character_.

"We're almost there," Ordo's deep voice broke through my mental musings.

He stopped, suddenly, and I didn't pay attention fast enough to keep myself from running face-first into his back. I could feel the tips of my ears flushing as I collided into his burly width and I threw a hand out to steady myself.

His red vest was warm underneath the tips of my splayed fingers; even through two layers of clothes, I could feel the curve of muscle near his hip. I opened my mouth to apologize, but nothing came out - not even a squeak (of that, at least, I was thankful). I kept my eyes fixed firmly to a distant point straight ahead - safely past his upper torso - as I tried gallantly to ignore the close proximity of what was, quite possibly, the most muscular human male in all of Taris.

Bad attitude and gray hair aside, I'd have to be catatonic not to notice the impressive physique. And dead, not to appreciate it.

"I'm going to guess those _aren't_the reflexes that won you that swoop bike race, eh?" Ordo's voice was a little rougher, a little deeper.

I would remember this moment as the first time I heard him _purr_.

My ears burned brighter and I was saved - yet again - by Carth.

"Briah's got a lot on her mind," I felt a large hand settle on my shoulder, as Carth pulled me safely away from Ordo's personal space.

He kept his hand on my shoulder - an oddly _territorial_gesture - as I cleared my throat and dared to meet Ordo's amused face. The Mandalorian's scent crept up my nose and threatened to scatter my thoughts - he smelled like metal and sweat. A strong mixture, but not unpleasant. I forced a sneeze, to buy my thoughts some time.

"Seems I've got something up my nose, too," I sniffled dramatically for affect.

My act seemed to have satisfied Carth, but when I risked another glance at Ordo, the line of his mouth had thinned, as if he was trying to keep himself from laughing. The thought made me indignant and I grabbed a hold of it - any emotion was better than embarrassment.

I shrugged away Carth's hand - I could face this mercenary oaf on my own, thankyouverymuch. I squared my shoulders and titled my head back to meet Ordo eye-to-eye. He toward over me and I couldn't help feeling rather small and fragile.

It was the first time that I could ever recall, where I didn't feel as if I was meeting a male as an equal. Even when standing casually to the side of a fairly busy walkway, he had a dominant sort of arrogance in the set of his shoulders, of his hips. Ordo was a man used to being in charge - I suddenly suspected that he submitted to the likes of Davik and the Exchange only out of sheer necessity.

I also began to suspect that he wasn't the type to ask for help. Ever.

"Who _are_you?" I narrowed my eyes at him and set my jaw stubbornly as I prepared for a battle of wills.

Ordo surprised me, though. It would be the first time of many, as I would later discover.

"Someone who would rather be your ally, than your enemy," he answered cryptically.

"Oh, c'mon -" Carth began, but I raised my hand to cut him short.

Surprisingly, he acquiesced to my silent request, though I didn't catch any reaction I might have caused, as I never turned my eyes away from Ordo. The Mandalorian quirked an eyebrow at my gesture, but said nothing.

I had a feeling that I was being sized up - both from the back _and_the front, by both men. I lifted my chin a little higher in response to the pressure of their mutual consideration.

"Will you answer some questions when we get to -" I paused and allowed my attention to be briefly diverted by an Ithorian ambling past; I lowered my voice a notch or two, as I turned back to Ordo. "-Where we're going?"

"I won't promise to answer _every_question," Ordo slowly hooked his thumbs in the holsters that rode low across his thighs; I failed miserably at trying not to notice how that added to his rugged physical appeal. "But, I'll promise to answer what's prudent for the circumstances."

I searched his broad, scarred face for any sign of duplicity. Carth - not afraid to voice his disapproval - huffed and Ordo narrowed his slate-gray eyes as his attention shifted from my face to over my head. I took the opportunity to roll my eyes and curse my shorter stature.

Carth's suspiciousness aside, I knew instinctively that Ordo was merely being honest. In the home of the employer he intended to betray, there _were_only so many questions he could answer safely. I had little choice but to be happy with the promise I had been given.

"That all?" Ordo took a moment from glaring over my head, to look me in the eye again.

A corner of his mouth twitched and I knew what he was _really_ asking - "_Was that what you had 'on your mind'?_" I chose to ignore his unspoken question and the implications that it held.

I could still smell him - that heady mixture of metal and sweat. It was different from Carth - who always smelled like leather and soap. This was a _raw_sort of scent. Unmistakable, really.

"Yeah," I played stupid and shrugged; it was safer that way. "You said we're not far...?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _Next up - Canderous!_

_Love it? Like it? Hate it? Lemme know...!_


	2. TARIS Canderous

_"I really don't think you should be left alone in there with him!"_

I shamelessly eavesdropped on my two reluctant companions, as I rolled a fat cigarra between my forefinger, middle finger, and thumb. As soon as we had been shown our rooms, Republic had mumbled something about needing a shower. I couldn't have agreed more - he smelled like the city sewers. But, as he had so clearly stated himself on the other side of the not-so-sound-proof door, he didn't really trust me alone with his female friend.

I smiled grimly to myself as I clamped the cigarra between my teeth and shifted in my seat in order to pull out the lighter in my right hip pocket. The last female I had touched had been both Mandalorian _and_ my wife – females had been perfectly safe around me ever since her death at Malachor V.

I wasn't the sort who initiated frivolous nonsense and I really didn't care to spend my time, money, or effort on a woman who wasn't my match at least in spirit. Since I was pretty sure the only kind of female who could stand her ground against me _was_ of my own kind – in other words, Mandalorian – Republic's blue-eyed wench was probably safer with me than she was him.

In a physical sense, at least. Regardless of how much she might have impressed me with her swoop bike and Sith-killing skills, I didn't put it past her to say something stupid and piss me off.

She wouldn't be safe around me if she did that. And women usually did, if given enough time.

So, maybe Republic had a point after all.

I shrugged to myself, flicked the lid of my lighter open, and thumbed the wheel briskly across the flint. There was a brief whiff of gas before the wick burst into flame; I put the lighter up against the end of my cigarra and gave it a few good puffs before it was lit to my satisfaction. I closed the lighter with a flick of my wrist and looked up just in time to see the door slide open and the female in question pause to wrinkle her nose.

I raised an eyebrow at her and narrowed my eyes slowly. This was one of the ways females inevitably pissed me off – it didn't matter if they knew me or not. Whenever I lit up, some Manda-damned female made it point to complain about my smoking. It had gotten to the point where I preferred to do it in the comfort of my own quarters. Not that I gave a Hutt's _shebs_ about what _any_ female thought of my smoking, but because I was tired of hearing Davik whine about how often I got thrown out of bars.

Of course, I could have roughed my dubious employer up at any point I pleased. But, he was a bit more than just a whiny-mouthed Twi'lek female or an uppity Taris princess. I'd been planning Davik's comeuppance for a long time and it had just been easier to pick my battles with him in the meantime.

I was no _hut'uune_...but I wasn't a _di'kut_, either. Maybe in my youth, I would have started a war with Davik over my smoking habits. But, I'd grown a little smarter with age. Or, at least I liked to think.

Speaking of age...

I eyed the woman – Briah, wasn't it? - over the stubby length of my hand-rolled cigarra. And I silently _dared_ her start whining. I wasn't in the mood to hear a pretentious monologue about the ills of smoking, but a part of me wanted to pick a fight with her. I'd seen what she was made of from a distance, but I hadn't yet experienced it for myself. She seemed feisty enough to at least be mildly entertaining.

I grudgingly admitted – if only to myself – that she intrigued me. I couldn't name it, but there was something...vaguely familiar about her.

She surprised me, though, when she said absolutely nothing at all. She did, however, purse her lips as if she was about to say something, but then seemed to think better of it. Her face was like a barometer – with enough time around her, I suspected one could start to read her thoughts without her ever having to utter a word.

Fascinating. I didn't usually take note of enough females to know for certain if such expressiveness was universal. I knew it certainly wasn't among Mandalorian women...but then, one learned not to compare _aruetti_ against such standards.

She clearly disapproved of my cigarra, but she said nothing as she passed by me and sat down on the edge of one of the three beds arrayed against the wall across from me. She chose the one closest toward the inside wall – I had already thrown my rust-colored leather vest on the bed closest to the door and claimed it as my own. That left the middle bed for Republic – I smirked a bit. Seemed only appropriate – he was a bit in the middle of things as it was.

And all the more awkward for it.

Of course, I wasn't sure what he was in the middle _of_, precisely. Except, maybe that he was a follower caught between two leaders. I considered Briah for a moment as she pulled her boots off – she was no Mandalorian, or even close to it. But, she was a leader as certainly as I was myself. She just had that sense about her – something in the way she held her shoulders, something in the way she talked.

She moved and walked like a warrior who had seen battle. I was certain of it – had been certain of it from the moment I'd seen her in action against the rakghuls in the Undercity. There was more to her than met the eye – more than just a dispossessed Republic soldier trying to find her way off of Taris – and I had found myself watching her closely.

I watched her closely now, as she pulled off her last boot with an alluring little groan. I arched an eyebrow at her, but puffed at my cigarra and said nothing. She pulled her foot up across her knee and started rubbing her thumbs into her heel. But, then she seemed to catch a whiff something even more offensive than my cigarra and she looked down at her foot as if it had personally offended her.

"Ugh," she finally broke the silence between us, though I wasn't entirely sure she wasn't just talking to herself for the hell of it. "I reek. Maybe I should have gone to take a shower, too."

"Oh, I'm sure Republic would have _loved_ that," I responded dryly – normally, I would have just kept my peace, but I felt like provoking her.

The cigarra hadn't worked. I wondered what would.

I didn't get quite the response I was expecting; she just blushed and stammered like a young girl.

"W-what? Hey...wait...it's not like that!" her ears turned an interesting shade of red; I lazily blew a ring of smoke at her and smirked.

"Oh it's not, is it?" really, this was just too easy. "He certainly seemed to disapprove of how much you were ogling over me in the corridors. I think if you hadn't been in between us, he might have tried something stupid."

"I think you're giving yourself a little too much credit there," her face blossomed into a fine flush, but I had to give her credit – she didn't deny what she'd been done, but she didn't keep stammering like a witless _di'kut_, either. "You're a _Mandalorian_. You're not exactly high on Carth's list of Preferred Choice of Traveling Companions."

"And of course, me being Mandalorian explains why he doesn't want you left alone in a room with me?" I gave her my best suggestive leer.

I wondered if it was possible for her to turn any deeper shade of red. I made it a personal resolution – right then and there – to find out.

"Carth just has old-fashioned notions of what's appropriate, that's all," she countered back, despite her obvious blush.

"Ah. So, it's perfectly all right for _him_ to be alone with you in a room, but not another man?" I leaned back in my chair and stretched my legs out in front of me.

It was a struggle not to grimace; my knees never missed a chance to remind me that they were far past their prime.

"I think Republic shouldn't flatter _himself _quite so much," I flicked my ash into a cup on the table next to me and shrugged off the pain in my knees. "He's hardly a challenge worth noting."

"I think you underestimate challenge a little too easily," she brought her chin up defiantly and some of the blush in her cheeks began to cool.

Hmmm. Pity. She was starting to resemble a Zeltron, her skin had flushed so deep. It'd been entertaining while it lasted.

Though, it seemed I had hit a soft spot. I took another deep drag of my cigarra as I pondered whether or not to keep needling.

_Ah, what the hell. Ain't got nothin' else to do..._

"My people kept Republic and his kind scurrying across the galaxy like nervous Lepi for _years_," my drawl was arrogant, but I didn't miss the anger that suddenly flashed in her eyes. "An' the only thing that stopped us was a single _Jedi_ general. Republic is hardly cause for any concern; I'd have him easily in a fight."

"I don't see why you and _Carth_," she paused and put particular emphasis on his name – it seemed I had ruffled her feathers with my little nickname. "Have to fight at all."

"Well, stop starin' at me when you think the two of us don't notice an' I'm sure him an' I'll get along just fine long enough to get off of this thrice-damned planet in one piece."

Hah. _That_ seemed to have hit the spot. The color _poured_ back into her cheeks; the rush of blood to her skin seemed to accentuate her black hair and blue eyes. She wasn't my type – and entirely too young for my tastes, even if she was – but I'd have been a fool not to notice that she had a lot of character and natural beauty.

Her eyes were her best feature, I decided. One could read a lot about her, if they just watched her eyes.

Right now, her eyes were struggling to keep contact with my own. I didn't even bother trying not to laugh; I pulled my head back as I leaned further into my chair and chuckled richly at her expense. That only made her blush more deeply; she opened her mouth as if to say something in her defense, but then thought better of it and snapped her jaw shut with a loud click of her teeth.

I just chuckled harder.

_Too easy_!

Finally, she managed a terse -

"If you keep laughing at me like that, then Carth's not the one you have to worry about fighting."

Normally, I would have just moved my chuckling into a full-blown laugh, but something in her tone pulled me up short. I was still deeply amused – she was no more a threat to me than Davik – but something flashed through her eyes that I hadn't seen in another sentient since the defeat of my people, so many years before.

In fact, what I saw there in those fierce blue eyes stirred something of a grudging respect – and a memory.

A memory of the one man other than my own _buir_ and the _Mand'alor _that I had ever respected. In that second, there was something about her that reminded me of..._him_.

_Interesting._

I'd have to watch this one. And watch her well.

"Don't flatter yourself, little girl," I chuckled one last time, just see how far I could bait her before she snapped.

She held herself with poise and control, even though I could see in her eyes that it cost her something of her dignity. I had to respect that, though. Control was a good quality in a leader.

"Tell Republic he can sleep easy. You're not Mandalorian and you're not my type. He can have you, if he wants."

A bit of her control slipped and she sputtered for a moment. It was fun watching the emotions chase themselves across her face – confusion, surprise, denial, embarrassment. She really needed to work on learning how to keep a straight face; she gave too much of herself away.

That was _not_ such a good quality in a leader. In fact, it was down-right dangerous. Perhaps I'd mention it to her before we parted ways. I didn't usually dispense advice like some sort of pompous Jedi, but she had impressed me well enough to make me at least _think_ about giving her a tip or two for the road.

"You _really_ have a lot of nerve...!" she managed to get a few words out with all of her stammering and sputtering.

I just arched an eyebrow at her and smirked as I ground out my cigarra on the bottom of my boot.

"And you have a lot of _gett'se."_

"What does that mean?" my casual use of Mando'a seemed to have thrown her a sufficient puzzle to stop her bristling.

"You'll figure it out," I shrugged and decided that that was as good a place as any to cut the conversation short. She had pursed her lips thoughtfully, as if trying to remember something, and I was sufficiently pleased by our interaction to move on to more important things – like sleep.

I stood up and stretched my arms over my head; a few ligaments popped and I groaned.

_Damn, I'm getting old._

I had closed my eyes to stretch, but only just slightly – I hadn't actually meant to put myself on display, but I didn't miss the appreciative flash in her eyes. She seemed to catch herself, though, and before I could make eye contact with her, she had shifted her attention almost guiltily back to her feet.

I was old and she wasn't Mandalorian...but I wasn't a_ di'kut_. Even a beat up merc like myself couldn't help but be flattered by her apparent appreciation of my physique. I didn't consider myself a vain man – not like Davik, anyway – but I had some amount of pride in how well I'd held up over the years. I was over forty standard years of age and still in solid fighting condition.

Not as lean as I used to be, but certainly just as mean, as the saying went.

I had every intention of jumping ship once we had gotten off this rotten planet – I was hoping for a ride to Tatooine, perhaps, but nothing farther. Until then, though, Briah had caught my interest. She had a lot of spirit in her and that was a rare thing – at least, so far as I had ever noticed.

And, who was I kidding?

A part of me enjoyed her blushing, enjoyed her _looks_.

By the time it was all said and done, who knew? This could end up being a rather interesting acquaintance.

Manda knew I needed a little bit of interesting in my life.

I wasn't yet old enough to be half as bored as I was. A change of pace was a welcome thing indeed – and having the chance to provoke a pretty little _aruetti_ and her overprotective guardian was an unexpected perk.

_Yeah_, I thought as Republic abruptly entered the room, smelling a _lot_ better than he had when he had left. _This'll be fun while it lasts._

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _First off...thanks to everyone who favorited this and/or reviewed! The feedback has been fantastic! Warm thanks and cookies to **delighfully-so, PadawanCassy, Lisa, guest, -Kurohyou** and **SiriusBlackFan2**!_

_Since I didn't really leave much of an A/N in the last chapter, let me just mention a few things (nothing bad, I assure you, LOL)..._

_First off...don't expect too much from this. . It's sheer fluff, I assure you. I've never written Canderous, Revan, or Carth before, so I'm really experimenting with them here. I'm also not really trying to write a full-blown novel - think of each chapter as a "snap-shot" that takes place from a particular point of view. These "snap-shots" are serial (meaning, they do follow some sequence of ordered events), but I'm trying to avoid a "walk through" sort of story-line. So, everything you read here will take place in those "in-between" parts of the game. Consider each chapter as taking place "off-screen" - moments in context of the game, but moments that wouldn't have been a part of it. Just as a head's up, you'll get either two or three chapters per planet (depending on whether I decide to write Carth's point of view or not), so that means things will move a little fast.  
><em>

_So saying, there will be character development that I'll leave up to what one can assume off of the game. In that regard, the chapters might "jump", but I'm assuming here that we've all played the game at least once (or are at least really familiar with the plot line), so I'm hoping all of our fertile imaginations can "fill in the blanks" so to speak. I'll be illustrating a progression of attraction - especially between Canderous and Revan though each chapter, but it will probably be "faster" than it would be if I were writing a more fluid sort of fic._

_(If you'd like a reference for what I mean by "fluid sort of fic", check out my post-Order 66 era fanfic, **A Thousand Suns: Redemption**. The relationship between the two main characters there is almost painstaking in its detail and attempt at realism. Most of my extra time and effort goes into my ATS fics, so in some ways, **Something Done Right** is a chance for me to try a "faster pace". It's certainly not anywhere NEAR as "heavy" some of my other projects. LOL)_

_I also apologize if the frequency of updates lags from time to time. I'm a full time college student and insanely busy. I'm trying to discipline myself to write at least one hour a night...but we'll see how long the muse can keep up with that without pooping out on me in the middle of a chapter. ._

_And oh! Before I forget...! Yes, Revan is a bit of a flirt in this one. Confused and angsty in parts...but a flirt. I've read a lot of really great fanfiction about her, but I haven't run across one yet where she was...ah...a bit inclined to the earthy side of things. I decided to base her off of the smuggler option available in the game, so forgive me if a female version of Han Solo or Dash Rendar creep in from time to time... ^.^_

_And blah-blah-blah...that's all for now, folks! Do you want to see Carth's point of view in the next chapter? Or would you like me to stick to just Canderous and Briah? Let me know!  
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_Love it? Leave it? Hate it? Click that button an' let your voice be heard...!_


	3. TARIS Carth

It wasn't enough that we had fought our way through pack after pack of raging rakghouls, or that we had gone toe-to-toe with Sith and gangs alike. It wasn't enough that we had rescued a Jedi with all the imperious pompousness of a Alderaanian princess, or that we had managed to pick up an underground urchin and her walking carpet. It wasn't even enough that _I_ had watched our ship burn through the Tarisian ozone, or that _I_ had dragged a blacked-out stranger through hostile streets to safety.

Nope. It wasn't enough.

We just _had_ to accept help from a mercenary. And not just _any_ ole' mercenary. A _Mandalorian_ mercenary.

I had decided rather quickly that if there was, in fact, some mystical Force, then it hated me. Either that, or it had a really sick sense of humor. Or, maybe both. I don't know. What I did know, is that Briah was better off putting faith in a Hutt, than in a backstabbing _Mando_.

I scowled at the tastefully tiled fresher wall in front of me and scrubbed roughly at my sewer-scented skin. The really _twisted_ part of it all, was that we didn't have a hope in the Nine Corellian Hells of getting off of Taris _without_ Ordo's help.

He'd proven solid so far, but I trusted that to last for about as long as it took to get out of Taris' orbit. For all we knew, he'd made a second deal with the Sith behind our backs – in fact, that was my deepest fear. Briah had been unusually successful in her infiltration of the Sith base and she'd gone in by herself with a droid as her only companion. The odds of her coming out alive had been next to impossible – but she'd waltzed back into our safe house, sweaty and triumphant, not three hours after having left.

Her success – while admirable – was eerie in its reality. I didn't put it past Ordo at all, to siphon funds from his current employer to pay the Sith to keep a low profile until he found a successful flight off-world. I could just imagine it now...

Touching down in some remote planet like Tatooine... Heading out to a local cantina... Thinking everything was safe and congratulating ourselves on a successful evasion...

And bam! Right back into Sith hands.

I growled darkly at the thought and slammed my hand against the fresher shower button. The water turned off abruptly and I mashed a button next to it for the air-dry option. I could have toweled off, but I wanted a few moments to linger. I had left Briah – unwillingly – in the Mandalorian's sole company, so in that regard, I was eager to conclude my business and head back to our shared room. But, on the other hand...

We were sharing a room with said Mandalorian. A very boastful, arrogant, swaggering Mandalorian. Who seemed to have caught Briah's interest...and who _knew_ it. A few moments to collect my temper would go a long way in keeping the peace.

I gritted my teeth and thought about putting a bolt through his head. Only then did I remind myself that we needed him now more than ever – I didn't relish the thought of having to fight our way out through Davik's palatial abode and I was gracious enough to admit that Ordo made a pretty convenient walking _tank_. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that it also wouldn't help matters if I went back to the room in a mood for blood.

Briah was a fighter, but there was some part of her that was a peace-keeper as well. She didn't seem to enjoy conflict within her inner circle and I couldn't really blame her. Trying to survive on a planet where everything seemed to want you dead was stressful enough – she didn't need two of her own party trying to take each other out on top of everything else.

I took a deep, calming breath, and tried to enjoy the moment. I hadn't had a shower since we had hit the Undercity – and we'd been down there for almost a whole week. It wasn't the first time in my soldier's life that I had been forced to so long without a good rinse, but the past seven days on Taris had to be have been the most physically vile experience I'd ever had. While I didn't – under any circumstance – approve of spending the night in a crime lord's mansion, I wasn't so morally self-righteous that I would turn my nose up at the chance to abuse said crime lord's generosity.

The filth and squalor of the Undercity was enough to persuade me that maybe I shouldn't look a gift tauntaun in the mouth. As it was, I felt a thousand times better than I had in a while. I had tried to take the opportunity to catch a quick rinse when we had come back from the Undercity, but our small safe-house's minimal supply of water had been quickly consumed by three females equally eager for proper hygiene. Ever the gentleman, I had settled for a sonic shower – but even that couldn't replace good old fashioned water and soap.

I leaned a shoulder against the cool, wet tiled walls and let the warm air dry my skin. I tried to linger as long as I could – after all, there was no looming deadline, or impatient female waiting to take my place. But, I couldn't forget that Briah was alone with Ordo – eventually, my protective instincts over took any rational thought and I concluded my business in the fresher as quickly as I could.

Mandalorians weren't known to rape, but they _were_ known to torture, murder, and backstab. My imagination wreaked havoc with my mind, as I clamored hastily into fresh clothes and ran my fingers through my hair. I usually took time to comb my hair properly and to shave, but I'd left Briah alone long enough. As I walked down the hallway to our room as briskly as I could without lapsing into a full-out run, I couldn't help but recall the highly publicized trial of the Mandalorian scientist, Demagol.

For all I knew, I had left Briah alone in a room with the likes of _that_. The thought sent me scurrying and I practically burst into the room, out-of-breath and on the brink of panic.

The only greeting I got was a sardonic look from a very solitary Ordo. My paranoia kicked instantly into high-gear.

"Where is she?" I demanded, as my eyes scraped across the room – Briah was no where to be found and I thought my heart might stop in my throat.

"Relax, Republic," Ordo replied with a lilt to his rough voice that sounded suspiciously like laughter. "She's around the corner, getting a massage from one of Davik's Twi'leks."

"Do what?" my mind tripped over the word "massage" and I stared blankly at the Mandalorian lounging nonchalantly on the bed he had claimed by the door.

"She's getting a massage," Ordo repeated, his words slower this time and his tone of long suffering patience.

"You don't have to talk to me like I'm an idiot," I growled through gritted teeth; my shoulders had tensed up almost immediately, to the point of being painful, and I wasn't in the mood to be stuck in a room alone with the likes of a Mandalorian bounty hunter.

"Then don't ask _di'kutla_ questions," Ordo rolled his own massive shoulders in an arrogant shrug.

We eyed each other warily from across the room.

I thought about picking a fight, but decided against it, when I realized that there was absolutely _no way_ I would win in hand-to-hand combat. Ordo had at least a good hundred pounds of pure muscle on me – the only advantage I had was with a blaster and I was in no good position to whip those bad boys out. For whatever Force-damned reason, I had decided to leave the fresher with my gunbelt slung over my shoulder instead of around my hips where it should have been.

It was probably for the best. I liked Briah – and as a general rule, I tried to avoid making women angry at me. If I shot Ordo in the head, well...I could probably count on a different sort of fight with Briah. One that I could never, ever hope to _win_.

A smug sort of look crossed Ordo's broad face, as if he sensed that I had decided to back down. I ground my teeth together, but said nothing, as I made my way toward the bed on the farthest wall.

"Briah's claimed that one," he calmly stopped me dead in my tracks.

I looked in horror at the only bed left – the middle one, right next to his.

_You've got to be kidding me_, I thought to myself as I eyed the crisply-turned down linens.

I refused to look Ordo in the eye; I knew he'd be smug. I didn't need visual confirmation of something I already knew.

So, I silently stalked over to my bunk and slung my gunbelt off of my shoulder. I glanced surreptitiously toward Ordo, to see if he was still wearing his blasters as well. He wasn't – as a matter of fact, he wasn't wearing much of anything anymore, except his pants. I glanced up at him and scowled.

"You're sharing a room with a woman you don't even know. Don't you think you could be a little more decent?"

"I'm sure at her age she's seen it all," Ordo gave me a wry look, before picking up the datapad he had been resting on top of his bare stomach.

I could feel _my_ ears turning red at the boldness of the Mandalorian's suggestion. I gritted my teeth yet again – wondered briefly if I'd end up chipping a tooth by the end of the evening – and insisted on trying to establish some boundaries.

"That's really not the point," I insisted. "_She's_ not going to prance around half-naked –"

"_I _wouldn't mind at all if she did – "

"So, it'd be decent of us to return the favor."

I might as well have been arguing with a duraplast wall. Ordo looked completely unmoved by my suggestion – and I was irritated by his intimation that he'd like to see Briah less decently dressed.

Though, he had me there. If I was honest with myself, I wouldn't have minded, either. Except, I had already been vaguely imagining something of the like since I met her and I wasn't _about_ to share that experience with another man. Especially _not_ a Mandalorian man.

"I'm going to go see if she's really where you say she is," I decided after a second of grinding my back molars together that it might be wise for me to concede defeat for the moment.

I was also still plagued by the nagging feeling that Ordo was up to no good. It was all fine and well for him to _claim_ that Briah was getting a massage – but it was far more likely that she was being tortured by Davik or the like. I scowled at him and he merely stared back at me with a carefully bland expression.

I wanted to wrap my hands around his thick neck and throttle the life out of him. It's what he deserved, after all.

"The Twi'leks will yell at you for interrupting," he warned mildly; I just snorted.

Twi'leks were the _least_ of my concern.

"Or, proposition you," Ordo eyed me a little more skeptically and I could almost anticipate his next remark. "Come to think of it, you should take them up on the offer. You need something to mellow you out."

"Thanks for the suggestion," I snarled, as I looped my gunbelt around my waist and cinched it tight. "But, Twi'lek's aren't my type."

"More of a black-hair-blue-eyes sort of man, eh?"

I knew he was baiting me, so I tried to breath – and make it back through the door as fast I could.

"That's hardly any of your business."

"As long as I'm stuck with the lot of you, I'd disagree," Ordo's voice was almost polite, but his words dug under my skin; I itched with the urge to pull a blaster on him.

"You have the manners of a kriffin' nerf herder, you know that?" I paused at the foot of his bed and struggled against the building desire to swing a fist at his head.

"And you have the common sense of a kriffin' Gungan," was the measured retort.

I decided to leave, before our trade of insults escalated. I paused at the door, though, and shot him a hard look over my shoulder.

"She better be where you say she is, Mandalorian," I warned darkly.

"Or what?" Ordo seemed less than impressed.

"You just better keep your nose clean, Mandie," I left him with the pejorative nickname; hopefully, it would needle under his skin and deflate some of that infuriating calm he seemed to command with all the confidence of a frakking' Jedi. "I'll be watching you."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _Sweet Manda! Could it be? An update!_

_I never expected this story to be as popular as it's been, when I first posted it. So, many warm and wonderful thanks to everyone who's favorited this, who follows it, who's commented on it, and who's insisted that I continue. This one's for you! :)_

_We also have SW:TOR to thank for this update... After running around Taris with my smuggler character, I finally found my Carth-muse (which was what was largely holding me up from writing more). I wasn't sure if I was going to include Carth in this ficlet...but I've decided that I enjoy writing him, surprisingly enough._

_More to come! Next up: **Dantooine** and **Briah**!_

_Also, please keep in mind that I'm telling a story by way of random vignettes - since I'm not writing a full story, or a walkthrough, I'm leaving the details of Revan's relationship with Carth and Canderous to your more than fertile imaginations. I'm just playing with various scenes that have popped into my mind from playing the game...and trying to focus more on the angst of a strong-willed woman who's found herself caught between two potential lovers (and two lovers who love to loathe each other). Don't look for anything deep...**this is sheer fluff and fangirl wish fulfilment at its finest!**  
><em>

_Love it? Like it? Hate it? Lemme know...!_


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